


With One Stroke of the Keys

by iloveromance



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24159760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveromance/pseuds/iloveromance
Summary: A long-forgotten e-mail from Will brings memories both pleasant and heartbreaking for Alicia. (Episode: "Undisclosed Recipients.")
Kudos: 3





	With One Stroke of the Keys

Her hands were still trembling when she arrived home, relived to find that the apartment was empty. She'd almost forgotten that Zach and Grace were at Peter's for the weekend. Finally it was Friday and she was glad that she wouldn't have to face her estranged husband. After all she'd been through she simply wasn't in the mood. Just thinking about it made her shudder; to imagine that someone had hacked the e-mails of Lockhart/Gardner was bad enough, what with all of the sensitive information that the hackers were now in possession of.

But it wasn't just that. It was the fact that they'd seen those e-mails. The personal ones that she'd long since forgotten about-until now.  
Damn… What had they been thinking? She should have known that they would surface sooner or later. She was sure that they had been deleted but the hackers were too smart for her. They had been too smart for any of them.

Without hesitation she put down her purse and carried her messenger bag to the counter where she pulled out the manila folder, prepared to look through its' contents.

But first things first.

She laid the folder on the table and went to the fridge, removing the bottle of wine that was prominently displayed, still in the same place that it had been the last time she'd opened it. Some things never change.

The glass of wine in her hand, she took a sip and made her way to the bedroom. It was best to be comfortable when she opened the folder. There was no telling what she would find.

It took virtually no time at all to take off her polished suit, jump in the shower and then change into sweats and a faded Georgetown sweatshirt.

Peter had told her hundreds of times to "Just get rid of that ratty thing." but she always refused. Finally after his instance led to a huge blow-up fight, she'd shoved it into a bag, promising to donate it to charity. But when it was time to deliver the unwanted items, she found that she couldn't do it and instead had stashed the sweatshirt into a grocery bag that was laying on the backseat of the car.

The minute she got home, she washed the shirt and hid it in her pajama drawer, deep under her bras and underwear, her nightshirts and sweatpants. Peter hardly ever looked in there and even if he did, he didn't look for long.

Now she stared at it, amazed at how a soft, dark blue piece of fabric could provoke so many memories. But yet, it had. And incredibly the tears that so often came were kept at bay, at least for now.

She climbed into bed and turned on her bedside light, taking a sip of her wine before placing it on the dresser beside her. And then as her heart began to beat faster, she reached for the manila folder.

Carefully she opened it and removed the large stack of printed e-mails that had caused so much havoc around the office.

And one by one she began to read them, each one, like the sweatshirt she was wearing, provoking a memory. But one in particular made her shudder.

"Let me tell you how you sent me to heaven this weekend. The feel of your soft lips against mine, your inner thighs against my cheeks... My only purpose? To be a servant to your body. Thinking about kissing you...Everywhere...You leave me exhausted, baby.- Will"

If she closed her eyes, she could remember clearly the reason for the e-mail and how he had made her feel. She could hear his voice saying the words instead of just reading them on the paper. Another shudder went through her; a shudder of desire and it was easy… so easy to get caught up in the memories of the weekend they had spent together, alone in his apartment.

Her kids were gone on a school trip, Peter was out of town on business (or so he'd said, but after all that had happened, she refused to believe anything anymore). And when the offer was made (discreetly of course) for drinks on Friday after work, she and Will both knew that it would lead to something else.

She had no one to answer to, no one at all-and there was really no need for an overnight bag, packed with extra clothes. But, the gentleman that he was, he insisted that they stop by her place to allow her to get a few things. She packed in record time, anxious to be where she belonged; in his arms.

When they arrived at his apartment, they talked over wine and plates of cheese and crackers. And then when the talking became pointless, the real reason for her visit began. He touched her everywhere, kissed her everywhere; made her feel like no other man ever had, even Peter, although he'd tried so many times. It didn't even come close to what Will was capable of doing.

Now she found it hard to breathe, remembering. She longed for his touch, his lips on hers, his voice in her ears…. Why had she let it go? Why had she let him go? Why had he been taken from her, never to be seen again? To a heaven that wasn't the one he'd been referring to in his e-mail.

The tears she'd tried so hard to hold inside were now falling uncontrollably, splashing onto the cherished email and she scooted further underneath the covers, cradling the pillow in her arms. And when she finally closed her eyes she saw him clearly, becoming her to him, enveloping her into his arms where they became one.

In her dreams she was happy and safe… and loved by a man whom she would love for the rest of her life-and into the afterlife where they would be together again. She was sure of it.

And it was that thought that made everything okay again.

THE END


End file.
